


the long and winding road

by happy_hufflepuffle



Series: the beatles song fics [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan Being Sappy, Established Relationship, M/M, Storms, this is so soft wth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 10:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_hufflepuffle/pseuds/happy_hufflepuffle
Summary: title from the Beatles song.





	the long and winding road

There's a storm outside. Dan can hear the rain against the windows, the faint rumbles of thunder echoing through the streets, and somewhere in the distance a siren wails faintly.

He loves daytime storms: the energy, the sound, the feeling of being safely cocooned inside as raindrops splash onto glass panes. But they're even better in the middle of the night. Especially when he's in a warm bed with a warm body wrapped around his as candles flicker cosily. 

Dan's not sappy but right now he can feel love right down to his toes. It's all small things, really. The scent of Phil's shower-damp hair, the hand sleepily tracing patterns on Dan's shoulder, the sight of everything they've amassed over the years cluttering up the shelves in the corner of their room. 

He's struck by a sudden urge and he disentangles himself from Phil and throws the covers back.

"Where're you going?" Phil asks drowsily. 

"Windows." Dan tells him, as he pads across the room to push the curtains back and open the windows as wide as they go. The sound of the storm increases and cold, wet air blows across his bare chest, raising goosebumps and making him shiver. He hurries back across the room and slides back into bed. Phil wraps his arms around him automatically. 

"'S cold." he complains, poking Dan's dimple. 

"Shut up." Dan says fondly. "Just listen."

A gust of wind swirls down the street and something creaks. The wind rushes into the bedroom, bringing with it the metallic scent of thunderstorms, the smell of the city - exhaust fumes, petrol, Indian takeaway - and something sweet and fresh that Dan can't name.

"Remember Manchester?" Phil says softly. Dan does. It was a storm like this one and they ran outside in the middle of the night to stand in the rain. Despite the late hour, the flights of stairs, the danger of a city at night, they stood in the downpour: a little tipsy from cheap wine, but mostly drunk on the feeling of being young and reckless and in love. 

"I remember." he says, watching the raindrops rush through the window and soak the carpet, lost in the memories of previous years. That apartment was a beginning, both the previous one and the one they're in now a choice, and the glossy pamphlets that cover the bench and sit propped on Phil's bedside table a future. 

"We were so in love, Dan." Phil smiles into his chest and Dan hugs him a tiny bit tighter. He knows Phil doesn't mean it as 'we were then and now we're not'. They just have a different type of love. Back then, everything was new and thrilling. First touches and first kisses and their first home together as adults. Now, they've built a life together and eased into the comfortable familiarity that ten years of loving each other brings. They argue occasionally about who moved the phone charger, or who's turn it is to take out the bins, or what sheets to buy (Phil insisted on animals. Dan wanted black. They compromised.), but Dan still feels that swoop in his stomach when Phil smiles at him, loves knowing Phil's quirks and being trusted with knowing Phil's fears, and he delights in knowing Phil so intimately. 

"Come back." Phil says.

"Hmm?"

"You were miles away. What were you thinking about?"

Dan attempts to put his scattered thoughts together to form a comprehensible sentence but fails. "You." he says instead. "Us. Past and future."

"You're sappy tonight." Phil teases, and Dan can't even argue. 

Lightning flashes and thunder follows straight after. The storm must be nearly overhead. Another gust of wind rushes in, causing the candles on the bedside table to flicker and one to go out completely. Phil shifts and props himself up on one elbow.

"You look happy." he says.

Dan smiles and feels contentment flow through his limbs, making him sated and sleepy. "I am." he says. "I'm where I want to be. I think I could never upload again and be perfectly happy."

"Good." Phil says. "I like seeing you happy." He reaches a hand and gently touches Dan's jaw. It's a gesture made familiar with years, yet the casual intimacy makes something warm spread in Dan's chest.

"Are you happy?" he asks, covering Phil's hand with his own.

Phil smiles, soft and slow and sleepy. "Yes." he whispers. "I'm where I want to be too."

Dan blows out the remaining candles and shifts down the bed slightly, pulling the covers higher. Phil moves closer, tucking his head under Dan's chin and draping an arm across Dan's stomach. Dan wraps his own arm around Phil's waist. Maybe at some point in the night they'll move apart. But then again, maybe they won't. Maybe they'll stay right here, chest to chest, heart to heart, in their cocoon of warmth as the storm blusters on outside.

Dan takes a deep breath in. He can still smell Phil's shampoo, feel the heat of Phil's body against his own, hear the sound of the storm. This bed is home. Someday soon will bring a new kind of home, one with a garden, walls they can paint and decorate (and probably scuff). A home where they can grow their ever-expanding collection of houseplants, have a dog running around. A kid too, maybe, who knows?

Right now, though, he's content to lie here and listen to Phil's breaths slowly even out. He's travelled a lot of roads in his life, but they've all lead him here to this moment. To Phil, to this bed, to the tangible promise of a future.

"I love you." he whispers, half to Phil and half to the wild night outside: the wind, the rain, the city, and the sweet smell of hope.


End file.
